


Gold

by dream_vs_nightmare



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream_vs_nightmare/pseuds/dream_vs_nightmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's heard all the rumors. She knows all the stories. He assures her that it's different, here. But can she trust him? Belle/Gold AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First ~
> 
> This is an ongoing multi-chapter fic I started on fanfiction.net. Since it's become so popular in the last month or so, I decided to post it here as well for any AO3 readers.
> 
> Second ~
> 
> I plan to update this pretty regularly, or at least as regularly as I update it on fanfiction.
> 
> Third ~
> 
> Read on, rumbellers. Read on.

* * *

 

"Lusting after love, are you there, sweetheart?"

Belle's eyes wandered from the little glass dome on the counter to the man's lilting voice beside her. She blinked - was he really standing that close to her? She'd heard he didn't stand that close to anyone.

"I suppose so." But when she blinked again, he was still just as close as he had been a moment ago.

She caught Ruby watching them from the corner of her eye. For a second, it looked like she was smiling as she cleared another table. But then she looked away and Belle wondered if she'd imagined it.

"Well then, what can I get you?" He asked with a grand sweeping motion.

"Pardon?" Her nose scrunched up in confusion. "I didn't think you worked here."

"Oh, I don't." He gave her a smile as soft as the Scottish tones in his voice. "But I wouldn't mind buying such a lovely woman a sweet or two. Pick any one you like."

"I don't know, I don't think I should-" She found Ruby's eyes again. The secret smile was back, and Belle thought it was about as much encouragement as she was going to get.

_Oh, to hell with it._

Belle looked back to the man in front of her. "You're sure I can pick any one?"

He nodded. "I'm sure, dearie. Whatever you'd like."

She leaned forward on her stool, unsure. There was a red-velvet cupcake with cream frosting, a fudge brownie that looked a bit too fudge-y (even for her), lemon-sorbet topped with whipped cream, and a slice of strawberry cake.

"I hear the strawberry cake is to die for," He said from somewhere above her ear. The thought occurred to her that she'd heard the same thing, once, but it wasn't about a slice of cake.

"I'll go with that, then."

Ruby sashayed behind the counter to ring up the order. "Will that be all for today?" The secret smile was gone, now. The one she was wearing now seemed totally business.

"I think that'll suit us just fine for now, thank you."

He paid for her just as he'd said, even as Belle tried handing over her own card. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a laugh when he called her "dearie" again. She was sure he didn't really mean anything by it, but that was why it was so funny. He sat down on the stool at the end of the counter so they were facing each other. Ruby came back with their order in under a minute. She smiled at both of them and set the plate down in front of Belle.

She got a nasty look from Belle when she put two forks on the table, but smiled just as sweetly before she skipped off to the kitchen again. Belle picked up a fork and dug into the cake.

"I don't understand that girl, sometimes." She said before she popped a piece of cake into her mouth. It was just as good as he'd said it would be.

"I don't think any of us do, really. We just go along with her wolfish grins so we won't end up as part of the menu." He said as he picked up a fork of his own.

Belle nearly choked on her food. "What?"

He cracked a small smile. "I was only kidding."

"Good." She gave him a smaller one in return. "I was almost afraid what they'd said about you was true."

"Oh?" He wasn't smiling anymore. "And what do they say?"

"They say you live all by yourself in a castle that could house an army. They say you can turn anything into gold, even thread. And they say you're about as wicked as they come."

He threw his head back in a laugh - the first real laugh she'd ever heard from him. "Oh, dearie. They don't say that, here. Who have you been talking to lately?"

Belle smiled again, pushed the last piece of cake around on the plate. A woman she'd met at the grocery store had advised her not to tell anyone about their little chat - she said she'd told her things no else knew of, things no one else could be trusted with. Her eyes had grow wide and sad when she'd whispered of the evil Gold had done, and it'd made Belle wary.

But as she sat with the very man she'd been warned to stay away from, Belle couldn't help but think that there were some flaws in Rachelle's theory (or was it Regina?). His laugh didn't  _sound_  evil, and his smile wasn't all that wicked, either. There was something soft and warm about both of them. Honest, even. When their forks touched and he pulled his away first, it was hard to imagine him doing anything even remotely mean-spirited.  _It doesn't suit him, here._

"You go ahead." He lowered his. "It was my treat, after all."

She savored the last little bit of cake as it melted on her tongue, making an "mmmm" noise she hoped he hadn't heard. But when she opened her eyes to gauge his reaction, his mouth was turned up at the corners. Oh, yes. He'd heard.

"I hope you enjoyed your cake, Miss..."

"Belle." She said dreamily, still drunk on the taste of strawberries and cream-cheese frosting.

"Miss Belle? Well, that's an interesting last name." He said as he rose to stand up.

"No, no! Belle's my first name, I'm sorry."

She thought he smiled at her again, but she wasn't sure.

"It's really French. My last name, I mean." God, what was she doing? Why all the nerves now, when he was just about to leave? It'd gone so well, up until the point she'd made that silly noise.

"That's quite alright. I think I like your first name better." He shrugged into his coat and pulled on a pair of gloves. She couldn't take her eyes off his hands - they were covered in scars. "Nasty weather out there."

She nodded, falling mute. There'd been a light rain all week, and the forecast was predicating a dusting of snow over the weekend. But the way he was dressed, you'd think he was going out into a blizzard.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Belle." He held out his hand for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr..."

"Gold," He said simply.

She shook his hand and was momentarily surprised - he was so warm, she wouldn't have thought he was wearing gloves if she hadn't seen him put them on a minute earlier.

"Is that your first name, too?" She couldn't help but smile up at him.

"No, I'm afraid not. But it's easier said than my first, so it'll have to do."

"Well, what's your first, then?" She said, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Something generic and hideously average."

Belle wracked her brain for a way to ask him what it was without sounding like she was prying, but she couldn't think of one. She paused too long, and he nodded goodbye in her direction before he headed out into the cold. His eyes lingered in her mind long after the shadow of his coat had faded from view, and she couldn't help but think that they matched his name - gold. Molten, gleaming, and dangerous. And the scary part about it was that the danger intrigued her the most.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that although my story doesn't follow the plot of the show, I'm still trying to make it as believeable as possible. Pegasus isn't going to fly out of the clouds and tell Gold, "your princess awaits!" or anything. (Although it'd be a fun plot bunny.)
> 
> Belle can remember bits and pieces of the fairy tale world, like who Gold really is, and Gold knows that she was his maid there, but neither of them can remember what they felt for each other.
> 
> Or at least..not yet. ;)

* * *

 

"Do you spend all your Friday nights here, love?"

'Love' had her holding her breath. It wasn't the word so much as the way it sounded. Soft. Lilting. It was enough to make her hope he was the one saying it, voice a dark waterfall of sound at her ear.

But she didn't move her eyes from the dessert counter, or look up from her drink. It had a funny color to it and an even funnier name, but she couldn't remember it now that she'd had a couple. The thought of names made her remember the way he'd stood in the doorframe a few weeks before, eyes warm and liquid-like when he'd skirted around the question of his.

It'd driven her to a point of insanity, wondering just what his name - his first - could be. She knew what it was, really, but he'd assured her that that wasn't the way it worked here. But she couldn't remember why things were so different here, head muddled with a drink as amber as his eyes.

"Not every Friday, no." She said finally. She could see his hand hovering in the air above her shoulder, like he'd catch her if she tumbled off her stool.

"Most Fridays, I'm at a place a bit uh," She let herself look into his eyes now, "A bit racier than this."

He cracked a smile for her, and her mind locked onto the familiar gold tooth and the hair falling over his eyes. They were solid enough that they weren't overwhelming, but she felt like she could turn them into molten lava if she wanted. And with a couple of drinks humming through her bloodstream, she realized that she most definitely wanted to.

"May I ask just what sort of place, my dear?" He gestured to the area around them. "Because this is about as racy it gets."

She gave him a slow smile that looked like it was proving him wrong, eyes getting deeper and darker by the second.

The reason in her was telling her to stop talking, to go home before she said something she'd regret in the morning. But another part of her, a part that was just as deep and dark as his eyes had become, said that if the morning was spent in his bed, the hangover would be worth it, then.

She abandoned her stool at the dessert counter and stood tall in front of him, eyes level with his. The heels she'd lifted from Ruby's closet made her taller and the drinks she'd thrown back made her braver.

"I was just headed there if you wanted to join me." Belle gave him one of those slow smiles again, not really feeling like Belle at all anymore. She felt a lot like the way he'd spoken about Ruby last week, all wolfish grins and gleaming eyes. And he was looking at her with his mouth parted like a good little sheep, caught under some sort of spell.

"I would enjoy that very much," He said, eyes hovering somewhere between her mouth and her neck, like maybe he was the wolf looking for the killing blow. He took a small step backwards soon after, closer to the door now than he was to her. Even so, his gaze lingered on her jacket as it fell open to hint at the dress she wore underneath - a dark blue number that rivaled the deep of the night.

This is it, the voice inside her raged. He was leaning towards her even though he'd just taken a step away, like all the steps in the world couldn't keep him from her.

"Don't get me wrong, dearie." His thumb brushed her cheek and his words brushed her mouth, tickled the way she thought his kiss would. "I would love to get out of this town for a while, but I'm afraid I'm rather chained here."

Some of the fog lifted from her head at 'chained'. Because she'd been chained too, once, but the alcohol wasn't letting her remember when, now.

"You said it was different here, Gold." Her hand was on his arm, now, and if she thought hard enough she could feel the heat of him through his dress shirt.

"Oh, it is, Miss Belle." He leaned closer into her and the wolf howled with approval.

"Because you see, I'm afraid I have to work tomorrow." He said against her ear, his voice low with something he was trying to hide.

And in that moment, she wished he wouldn't. Wished things weren't different, here. Some of the heat lifted from his eyes when she moved away from him, towards the door. When she got there, she gave him last look, as soft as it was smoldering.

Told him, "Well then I'm afraid things should change around here, Mr. Gold," before walking out into the rain.

She swore she'd make those changes happen, even if it killed her.

_And it just might,_ Belle thought as she walked down Main Street. _It just might._

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder:
> 
> I don't own the show Once Upon A Time. I don't even technically own the DVD - my mom bought it for me a while back, so it's hers if you look at it that way.

* * *

 

She woke up with a muddled head and bound hands. Panic seized her - where was she? What was going on? Had someone kidnapped her? - but then she blinked the sun out of her eyes and realized she was safe in her bed.

 _The History of Fairy Tales_ was spread open to a story about a woman who was taken prisoner in a beast's castle. She'd fallen asleep reading it; her hands ached from the weight of its thick pages. It sounded like something Emma would've bought for Henry. So what was she doing with it? She didn't remember buying it, the same way she didn't remember getting home. The same way she didn't remember a lot of things, lately.

Belle scowled at the sunlight and closed her blinds. It was too early and the sun was too bright. Stupid sun. She moved the book to the far corner of her bed, deciding it could wait to be read. Then she buried her head under the covers and found herself relaxing into their warmth. She heard her phone beep from somewhere outside the blanket walls before long. Knew she should get it. Knew it was probably important. But she was so comfortable she didn't feel like moving, and let the call go to voicemail. The darkness kept her hangover at bay. Before long, she was deep asleep and dreaming of roses.

There was only one rose, really. It was locked away in a shadowy room somewhere she'd never been before, but somehow knew the way to. Belle knew he was fast asleep in his chambers, and that he wouldn't wake for at least another hour. He'd never have to know. It wasn't like she wasn't going to steal it. She only wanted a little look-see. That wasn't so wrong, she thought.

As she ascended the sweeping staircase, one of her shoes slipped off. She couldn't go back to get it now - she was already at the top -, there wasn't enough time. But if he found it without her foot inside...she shuddered at the thought of what he was really capable of. She pushed onward, shrugging the notion away. Slipped off her other slipper to keep quiet, hoped Ella wouldn't mind if they got some dust on them.

She passed by several doors, all of them shut tight as he'd requested. She'd never seen the inside of any of these doors, just as she'd never seen the upper levels of his crumbling castle. He'd told her there were too many memories, here. Too many things that would set him on edge after he'd held tight to his control. And she understood that, understood it better than anyone else, but curiosity had consumed her for too long.

Belle picked a door at random. The knob was gilded and shining, and the wood was smooth and gleaming. She held her breath when it swung open at her touch. The room was shadowy, hard to see into. Enormous drapes descended down over the windows and spilled to the floor like a waterfall.

She pushed the door completely open and stepped inside. The walls were painted a deep, bruised purple that made her think of rotten grapes and sour wine.

The room smelled like roses, but tasted like tears. She'd always pictured it like this, even when she'd been kept away in another castle, by another beast.

"Time's up, dearie." His voice in the doorway froze her. She'd always pictured that part, too.

She jerked upright in bed, shivering at the thought of his voice so close to her. The dream faded the way it always did, dissolving into soap bubbles of thoughts that popped when she held onto one for a moment too long. But she remembered that there was something about a castle. It was in a faraway place, a place of magic and misery, hope and horror.

Her phone beeped and she jumped. Things were different here, she reminded herself as she got up to fetch her cell. Things were different here, she thought as she looked at the screen.

16 new messages.

_so bored_

_Please remind me y i work here again?_

_or why i work at all_

The messages went on and on. As far as Belle could tell, they were all from Ruby. It made sense, really. They were basically attached at the hip whenever they were together. Being apart wasn't an option for Ruby. She scrolled through the rest of the text messages with a smile. Most were silly, unimportant. A few made her laugh out loud. But by the time Belle scrolled to the last one from just an hour earlier, fear choked her. It was Emma.

She said something had happened to Gold. He'd asked for her at the hospital.

Belle's mind jumped to every injury she'd ever seen from that brief time she'd been an EMT. Skin torn from bone. Blood sparkling on asphalt. Raw, red stubs where arms and legs had been before. That couldn't be him right now. No. No. It couldn't have been.

She scrambled to find clean clothes. Tennis shoes. A hair tie. The thought of him bleeding made something inside her swell with worry. Because things were different, here.  _He isn't immortal, here._

She had her hair up in less than a minute, was slipping into ballet flats in another. They were delicate little things, shiny and crystal-blue. Ella's, she realized. And she had a feeling that the shirt she'd tugged on wasn't hers, either. It seemed like Ruby's, snug in places she wasn't used to. But none of it mattered.

She grabbed her car keys, racing down the stairs and out the door. Her dad tried to stop her, ask her where she was going so late, but she barely heard. Didn't care.

The rainwater was slick on the sidewalk, and Wednesday's snow had turned into slush in the street. She unlocked the Bug and got in. Shoved the key into the ignition and started up the car only for the engine to stall.

"Dammit."

She tried again.

No go.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit." The word spilled from her lips like she swore regularly. Panic had her on edge. She tried starting the car one last time. Closed her eyes tight and gripped the steering wheel hard. Heard the engine start. Stutter. And actually stay on.

She promised herself she'd thank every deity she knew of soon. Not yet. But soon. The storm wasn't over just yet. She still had to get to the hospital. And she had to do it without losing her mind on the way.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was getting so good at writing 1,200 word chapters. And then....and then this happened.

* * *

 

The rain came down in rivulets over the Bug's windshield. It was getting harder and harder to see as she raced back into the heart of town - the windshield wipers had stopped working as soon as she'd started the car. The heat was making her sleepy but she couldn't find the button to turn it off. No time. No time. She was getting too warm, too tired. She could feel her mind getting hazy, foggy.

The warmth of the car tugged her backwards in time. Made her remember another night, another time - the townspeople were coming for him. She'd watched the light of their torches growing steadily, swallowing up the void of the night with every orange flame. Her shackles held her fast to the wall, but she could hear their cries from the window above her. They were getting closer. Infinitely, infinitely closer.

She snapped herself out of the memory as fast as she could. That'd been in another place, another time. And he hadn't been called Gold, there. He hadn't needed her, there.  _but he does now and that's what matters._ Belle peered hard into the rain as she rounded a corner. She could barely make out the sign for downtown over all the water pounding over the windshield. Only three miles to go.  _you can do this you can do this._ She found herself retreating back into another memory. She'd been dusting off curtains. Enormous hulking beasts of curtains. But then she'd missed a rung on the ladder. And when she came tumbling down, he caught her, even cradled her to his chest and murmured, "Are you alright, love?" in that high-pitched way of his.

Everyone always had a story to tell about him. He'd burned a village, he'd killed all the children. He'd ripped out someone's heart, he'd fed it to his horses. The list went on and on. And she supposed his track record wasn't entirely void, here, either. She'd heard about the deals he made in the back room of that musty pawn shop. Heard about the way he went about collecting the rent of everyone in town, cane shining wickedly in the gloom. She'd heard about all those things, and more. But they didn't begin to describe him, or what he could do.

No one told her he'd be willing to buy her a slice of strawberry cake to share. No one told her he'd let her have the last bite, or sneak his phone number onto her napkin. No one told her he'd hold her at arm's length to keep her from kissing him when they were drunk, or steady her on her stool when she felt like she was falling. No one told her he'd do any of those things, and those were the things that changed her mind.

Maybe the Dark One hadn't needed her, then. But Gold did, now.

* * *

 

She thought she saw a wolf run out onto the street. She stepped on the brake fast, feeling the car spinning out of control. _didn't this happen to Emma, too?_ She gripped the steering wheel tighter, making a hairpin turn around the animal. She thought she'd seen a flash of white fur and red eyes, but when she looked again, the wolf was gone.  _Graham_ , she thought.  _it's him it's him, it's gotta be him._

She was flooded with a sudden wave of relief. The Queen hadn't killed him after all. Emma would be so happy to have him back, she had to go look for him, she had to go -

Belle shook her head fast. No. The wolf she'd seen wasn't Graham at all. Graham was dead. The heat was playing tricks on her head. And she didn't doubt that the queen, the raven-haired witch that'd tried to warn her at the grocery store, was behind it all. The heat. The windshield wipers. Maybe even the constant squealing in her brakes. She was trying to keep them apart.

 _so something must happen when we're together,_ Belle thought.  _Something magical._

Belle smiled in the gloom as the exit sign for the hospital came into view. She was getting closer. And once she was there, nothing would stop her. Not even Regina herself.

Her phone buzzed in the passenger seat. She resisted the urge to jump three feet in the air - the thing still scared her, sometimes - but just barely. It kept buzzing away, sounding a lot like a jar of angry bees. One of her hands strayed from the steering wheel. What if it was Emma? Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought. What if it was Emma calling with bad news?

After a few more moments of angry buzzing, her phone beeped and then fell silent. Well what the hell did that mean? Did she have a text? A voicemail? She rolled her eyes - sometimes she wanted to go back to sending things the old fashioned way. Her grip on the wheel didn't let up even as she told herself jokes about messenger pigeons and snail mail. Panic seized her as she slid into the exit lane and down the ramp. What if he wasn't going to make it?

Her phone buzzed again. The bees were getting urgent. She grabbed her cell and pressed the "talk" button, regretting it almost immediately.

"Belle! You gotta come quick!" Henry yelled.

"What's happened? Is he alright?" Her heart leapt into her throat.

"Who? Gold?" Henry snorted. "He's the Dark One, he'll be fine. I meant you gotta come see this cafeteria - they have a bowl of ice cream the size of my head!"

"Really? Well, that's-" She couldn't find the words. The thought of him broken and crumpled in a hospital bed terrified her. He may have been the Dark One, once, but that didn't grant him eternal life, anymore.

"I know! Come quick, okay? He said he really wants to see you." Henry paused through a mouthful of ice cream. "I thnk he sayid he luvs yu."

"What?" That one knocked the breath out of her. She wouldn't have been surprised if her heart flew out of her throat and onto the dashboard, she was so floored.

"Don't tell anyone what I told you!" He said in a rush. "I wasn't even supposed to tell you, he'd kill me if he found out!"

"He hasn't killed a man in centuries," She said in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

"And he'd never hurt you, Henry," She said as she made a right for the hospital. "He doesn't have the heart to hurt kids."

The line had already gone dead.  _Emma must've found him._ Belle dropped her phone and shut the engine off in the middle of the first-responders lane. She got a lot of crap for it from some of the EMTs on break, but slammed the car door and walked inside anyway. She was tempted to flip them the bird as she walked by. She'd never had the urge to do that before.

She felt better after she walked through the revolving doors. The smell of bleach and antiseptic calmed her nerves a little. She ran a hand through her hair and headed for the receptionist's desk. There wasn't anyone there, just like there had never been anyone else in the basement. The thought made her shiver.

She cast a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching. An older man had fallen asleep in his chair; his granddaughter was busying trying to climb up his legs. With the coast clear, she snuck around the desk and flipped through the records. It looked like David had checked Gold in. And as weird as it was, she guessed it'd get him a couple hundred brownie points with Mary-Margaret. The records book said they were all in room 217. The same room David had been in before he woke up. She walked in that direction, hoping against hope it was a good sign.

The door was wide open when she finally found the room. He was in the trauma wing, way in the back of the hospital. She took a seat outside the huge glass windows that separated him from her.

Henry whispered to Emma, "Why isn't she going in?"

Emma told him to hush, that this wasn't the place to talk about it.

Belle shook her head. "It's a very good question, Henry."

He turned around, eyes gleaming. "It is?"

She nodded. "It is. And I think...I think your book can answer it pretty well, huh?"

Henry smiled a little. "I'm not sure. I haven't read the end of your story, yet."

Belle pursed her lips in mock-thought, leaning forward in her chair so she was eye-level with Henry. "Do you think that if I..." She blew air through her lips. "well, kissed him, do you think he'd wake up?"

Henry's eyes grew wide. "I don't know if you're supposed to do that yet, Belle."

She bit her lip in mild frustration. It seemed like there was an order to things, in Henry's precious world of fairy tales.

"May I see your book for a minute?" Belle asked, eyebrows knitting together. She had a feeling that the book didn't dwell on what happened in Storybrooke. Because everything that happened in Henry's book happened in the past.

He cast a quick glance at Gold, then her. He looked like he was thinking hard; it seemed like he wasn't used to sharing his stories. But he shrugged after a minute and said, "Yeah, sure? Why not?"

He ran away to dig around in his backpack for it, leaving Belle to brood. She wasn't normally the brooding type. She'd never seen the need for it. But something dark and terrible loomed over her thoughts when she looked into Gold's room. No one had said what had happened to him, but she had a feeling that she'd caused it, somehow.

Henry returned with the book after a while, shoving it into her lap. It was open to her story,  _their_  story, and it nearly took her breath away. She flipped through the pages almost hungrily, taking in all the vivid drawings and beautiful narration as she went.

"It's real..." She whispered, eyes welling up with tears. "All this time, I didn't think it was even possible."

"But it is." Henry said from somewhere beside her. He nudged her with his elbow. "And you've gotta do something, fast."

Belle looked up at him and asked, "And what would you suggest?", sounding every bit like Gold had that first Sunday they'd met.

"Kiss him." Henry said simply.

The idea had seemed brilliant five minutes ago. But now she felt herself backing down at the thought of facing his rejection all over again.

"You can't just kiss people out of the blue, it's not-" She tried explaining but Henry shrugged her off.

"Uh, yeah. You can." He folded his arms over his chest. "Have you even  _seen_  Snow and Charming? All they ever do is kiss each other."

"Snow and...?" She trailed off. "Oh.  _Oh_. Is that what they're doing, now?"

Henry nodded in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "In the hall closet."

Belle leaned out of her chair a bit more, staring at the closet in question. "Should we go get them?"

"Emma already tried. But I think they'll be pretty busy for a while," He held up a skeleton key in triumph.

Belle ran a hand through her hair. "If I kiss him, you have to promise you will never, ever lock us in a closet together."

Henry grinned. "Okay. I promise."

She rose from her chair and walked to the adjoining door. "No bedrooms, either."

He nodded. "You're too chicken to be alone with him, I got it."

"I am not too chicken to be-!"

"Good!" Henry pushed her into the room and closed the door. It swooshed closed with a note of finality. She turned to look at him through the glass windows.

"Henry, you didn't just-"

He grinned again. "You didn't say anything about hospital rooms, Belle. And besides, you're not even alone. I'n here, and Emma's only in the food court."

She groaned. "Henry, you can't just-"

"I know, I know. But I did it for a good reason! If you don't kiss him by midnight, he'll stay that way forever!"

Belle took in the state of Gold's condition. He had a couple of scrapes across his cheek and forehead, and a nasty scar going all the way down his arm. But the worst part was the wound right over his heart. The layer of gauze the EMTs had put over it wasn't enough to stem the blood flow; she could see where it leaked out in rivulets around the tape.

"Forever?" She echoed as she brought his lips to hers. But nothing changed. Nothing happened. Fear ballooned inside her chest. She couldn't hear him breathing. She couldn't even hear the beep of the heart rate monitor beside his bed.

And that was when the thought occurred to her: true love's kiss didn't work if the love was unrequited.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready to Rumbelle?

* * *

 

"If you want him back, you've gotta kiss him like you mean it," Henry said against the windows.

 _what does that even mean?_  Belle thought as she stared out the window. The night stretched out its long fingers over town, blanketing it in an unending darkness.

"It didn't work, Henry. It's over." She said, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. They'd done all that work for what - for this? For him to waste away in a hospital bed because she was so stupid, she actually thought a kiss could save him?

"Pft. It's not over til the clock says it's over. Well, that and my mom." Henry flashed her a quick smile. "Go on. Kiss him again. You've still got time. It's only 11:58. But seriously Belle, you have to put everything you've ever felt for him into it. Just pretend I'm not here, okay?"

Belle nodded. Her legs had turned to jello where she stood; she needed to sit down. She settled herself on the edge of his bed and counted to seven the way Archie had always told her to do when she felt like she was getting panicky.

Once she felt calmer, she leaned down to whisper, "Hey, Gold. It's me, Belle," in his ear. Gold didn't stir. She swallowed the thought of another rejection away; there wasn't enough time to drown herself in self-pity.

"This is going to be a little weird - for both of us, really-" She paused to wet her lips. "..but it's the only way to bring you back." She swallowed hard. "And I really, really need you back."

She took a deep breath before she captured his lips with her own. It'd been a lifetime since she'd done this last, but she had to try. She had to mean it, this time. She tried channeling the heat of the other kiss, that other time. She could still remember the sunlight streaming through his hair. The salt of his skin. The weight of the spinner's wheel at her back as he pushed her against it with a hungry kind of force.

She deepened the kiss a little further, daring to part his lips with her own. He still tasted like salt, and maybe tears, but she thought that maybe those were hers. She kissed him like she meant it, a hand going for his hair as the other splayed out over the wound marring his chest.

"I love you," Belle said against his mouth.

A wave spread out between their lips and danced in the air around them. She could feel it moving through the room like a slow-moving current, but she couldn't be sure what it carried, or what it did. It tasted like sunlight; sunlight and laughter. His laughter.

His breathing hitched and his eyes opened wide - wide enough to take in exactly what she was doing with her mouth. God, her mouth. She heard him make a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan deep in his throat. It earned him a hard tug on his shirt, pulling him infinitely closer.

"It worked, it worked, it worked, it worked," She said against his lips. He weaved a hand through her hair to cup the back of her head.

"So it did," he breathed into her mouth. Her whole body sang from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes.

That wave had done so much more than it seemed. It felt like she truly couldn't let go of him, couldn't do anything but kiss him endlessly. She'd lost the breath for it almost as soon as she'd started; but he'd summoned a storm cloud of emotion the moment he kissed her back. She couldn't get enough of him; not his lips or his hair or his smile or his hands. God, his hands. No one had said anything about that part. No one had said anything about the warm wave of desire that washed over her the instant their lips met. No one had told her he'd leave her so breathless, but so achingly, achingly desperate for more.

He pulled his lips away first, just like he'd lifted his fork away so she could have the last piece of cake. The fog that'd taken over her during the kiss was lifting, ever so slowly. Henry was murmuring, "She did it, she did it," and Emma looked like she'd gone through several shades of surprised in the past few minutes; she'd settled on a pale green, like she really, really wished she'd waited to step back into the room.

Belle could still feel the memory of his lips on hers and the heat of his tongue on the roof of her mouth. She blushed furiously at the thought of what they'd done - and in front of Henry, too - and moved away from the bed to get him another blanket. He tried waving off the cold even as his whole body trembled with it. She rolled her eyes at him - it seemed like he he was unnecessarily stubborn in whatever realm they found themselves in.

She approached the hall closet carefully. She didn't hear anything funny, so she supposed that was a pretty good sign. She didn't want to walk in - or open up - on a very private session between David and Mary-Margaret. They weren't even really supposed to be seen together, these days. Kathryn may have left for Boston a few weeks ago, but it didn't excuse what they were doing. And while she didn't exactly agree with their decision to continue with such an affair, it wasn't like she could talk. She had just spent the last few minutes kissing Gold without a care in the world - except, maybe, the maddening seconds it'd taken to undo the buttons on his dress shirt while keeping her mouth on his. Heat rushed to her face again and she had to force the memory away.

Belle was just about to swing the door open when she realized she did hear something. A very low and hushed something that she couldn't really decipher. She didn't know if it was Mary-Margaret or David who'd made the sound, but she was a hundred and three percent sure she never wanted to hear it again.

"Hey...guys? Do you think you could get me a blanket?" Belle ventured. She thought she heard David sigh in annoyance at being interrupted, but he swung the door open and gave her a whole pile of blankets anyway. She got a glimpse of his arm and the sinewy muscle of his bare shoulders before the door swung closed again.

She walked back into the visitors-only half of Gold's room. Henry was busy reading his book, and Emma was trying hard to stay awake beside him. She'd had a hard time since Graham had died - a lot harder than she deserved. Belle thought it must've been lonely to raise a child alone, but lonelier still to know that everyone else around her had found their other half.

 _where did that come from?_  she mused. She cast a quick glance at Henry to see if the book had put the thought in her head, but looked away when she remembered it was only a window into the past. She gave him his blanket first and he thanked her quietly, not wanting to wake up Emma. For all the trouble he'd gotten himself into in the past few months, Belle thought it was all worth it when he looked at his mom that way. She was murmuring things, things that sounded a lot like "Graham" and "but I don't like whipped cream". She smiled as her head drooped on Henry's shoulder; it looked like she wouldn't be waking up for quite some time.

She made her way back to Gold's bed with gentle, quiet steps. He hadn't moved a muscle since she'd left. He was so still she almost thought he was asleep. She spread the blanket out around him, drawing it up to his chin the way her mother had always done for her. He whispered her name in sleep in the soft, lilting way he had when they'd first met. She settled into the chair beside his bed and began reading the book she'd started the night before -  _The History of Fairy Tales_. Although it wasn't nearly as vivid or colorful as Henry's favorite read, she still found it truly fascinating.

"Don't tell me you're going to stay up all night reading that thing, love," Came his voice, still thick with sleep, from the bed beside her.

"Oh!" Belle threw a hand over her heart, dazed. "Oh, you startled me."

"My apologies, dearie." He gave her a crooked smile that said he wasn't sorry at all. She smiled back and went back to her book.

They sat in silence for a long time. It should've felt awkward, maybe even stifling, but she thought it was almost comfortable, just sitting with him. Eventually, she had to stretch and take a break. Her eyes were killing her - they stung with the after-image of the page she was on. She rubbed them with the back of her hand and gathered the blankets around her.  _why didn't I bring my glasses?_  She brought the book closer to her face, but the letters were swimming, turning to a dizzying mix of characters she'd suddenly forgotten how to read.

The book didn't come back into focus. She thought it was probably for the best; she could feel her mind growing heavy with sleep even as she squinted down at the page. She sighed and gave up on her book, turning this way and that for the next several minutes. When he watched her curl into a ball on the hard-backed chairs for the umpteenth time, he couldn't help but ask exactly what it was she thought she was doing.

"Well, I thought I would sleep here," Belle grinned sheepishly.

"Why?" He arched an eyebrow.

"You know, keep watch. Hold down the fort."

"And why ever would you do that, dearie?" His voice dropped to a silky octave she'd only dreamt about. "There's no need for it - not when you can sleep with me."

The smile he gave her was enough to make her insides melt. She abandoned her book in the space of two heartbeats - it'd stopped making sense to her tired eyes a long time ago.

He rolled over onto his side to make room for her. She crawl onto the bed and curling up into the space beside him. It was still warm from where he lay, and the heat made her very, very sleepy.

"Today's been a weird day," She said into the shadows of his hair. She could feel him nod in agreement, and the low rumble of his voice against her back as he told her a story (a story from the world she remembered better than this one) was starting to make her sleepy.

* * *

She fell asleep soon enough, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder. She cried out more than once, whimpering against the weight of a hellish nightmare. He smoothed her hair back from her face each time, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear until the whimpers quieted and her breathing slowed.

"Well isn't that sweet?" A voice chimed from the door to his room. "She loves you, doesn't she?

He shivered involuntarily at the sugary-sweet wail of her voice. "What is it that you want? Because I can assure you I don't have it."

"Oh, nothing." She walked around the room with a slow, fluid grace, moving infinitely closer to his bedside. "Not yet, anyway."

"Let's not beat around the bush, dearie." He spat the word like a curse. "Tell me what you're here for."

"Your firstborn," She murmured, leaning inches away from his face. Her eyes gleamed dark and terrible in the room's muted light, and staff cast a sickly green glow over the bedsheets.

"You know I can't conceive," He said, unalarmed by her threat. She loomed ever closer, fingers straying to cup his cheek.

"Oh, but you can." Her nails sunk deep into his skin as she said it, drawing pinpricks of blood.

"How? With who?"

She smeared the blood across his face and jabbed a finger at the woman sleeping beside him. "Her."

Gold wrapped his arms around Belle instinctively. "Don't you touch her. Don't you touch her!"

He could feel his control slipping ever so slightly. The thought of losing her again was enough to make his head spin.

His heart leapt into his throat. "Don't you touch her," he whispered.

"Oh, Rumpel. Don't tell me you love her." She stalked around the bed to gaze into Belle's heart-shaped face. "She'll be nothing but ash by the time I'm through with her."

She paused, eyes glimmering. "But you and I - we could be infinite, Rumpel. We could be powerful."

He only held Belle tighter. "I have all the power I need, right here."

"Do you really, Rumpel? Do you really?" She leaned into his face once more, nearly snarling, now.

"She is all I need. And I will make sure that neither you or your lovely daughter can never take her from me again."

"Never?" She threw her head back in a laugh. "You should know to never say never."

She stepped away from his bed and disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. He could still hear her laugh rippling through the inside of his skull; it lingered there until the first rays of dawn spilled through the window and across the floor. He looked at the woman curled against his chest and almost wished he'd never stolen her away from her kingdom, all those years ago. Almost.

One of her hands reached out for his own as she rolled onto her side, laughing in her sleep as she said, "I love you."

He brushed her bangs out of her face and leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. He knew she was only saying those three little words in her sleep, but he so, so wanted to say them back to her. But he knew he couldn't; not yet. not when everything was just starting to come together.

He thought of Cora's arrival into Storybrooke and corrected himself; not when everything was just starting to fall apart. Maybe he couldn't return Belle's sleepy little words of love, but he could still give her a little something in return. something he hadn't given anyone in nearly a millennium.

Gold leaned down to whisper against Belle's forehead. "I promise I won't let anything hurt you, Belle. Not anything or anyone. Not even myself."

The nurse found them sleeping on the same pillow when she came to do her early morning rounds. All of Gold's other visitors had left for the day; the woman wrapped in Gold's arms was the only one who'd stayed. It was standard protocol to kick out any last-minute stragglers. But when the nurse saw the curve of a half-smile on Gold's sleeping face, she smiled and walked on, closing the door behind her. He'd had a telephone call; someone with a wail of a voice had asked to talk to them. The nurse decided it could wait. She'd let them sleep for just a few more minutes.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Gold tell Belle about Cora's arrival? Can their budding relationship survive the storm she's prepared to bring?

* * *

 

Belle woke to the sound of rain drumming on the windows. There was a brief moment where she thought she was still in her room, curled up in her bed. Her dad would've already made breakfast by now. She started to ask if he could bring a plate of pancakes upstairs, but stopped when she felt a familiar hand around her waist, tugging her back down to the pillow.

She turned to face the owner of the hand and was momentarily surprised - what was he doing in her room? Was she dreaming again?

"Good morning, dearie," The smile he gave her opened a cut along the side of his bottom lip.

_Wait._

That wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be bleeding. He was never bleeding in any of her other dreams.

Belle's gaze flicked from his mouth to the rest of his face, calmed by the fact that he didn't seem to have any other scars. But when her eyes moved farther upwards, she saw the unmistakable patches of red-brown blood matted in his hair. She looked over the rest of him to find thick gauze obscuring a wound over his heart, and several scars on his hands that hadn't been there the last time they'd met.

"Who did this to you?" She asked, hands shaking as they traced over the bad patch-up jobs. She was awake now; more awake than she'd ever been.

"Car accident." The smile he gave her was weak. Tired.

"And this?" She gestured to the gauze and the wound underneath it.

"Ah. Yes. That." He winced as he tried sitting up. A wave of fear gripped her - she didn't know what to do. Should she go get the nurse? Slam down on the panic button beside his bed?

He propped himself up on the pillows behind him and laughed for her benefit. "That, my dear, is a frighteningly long story that should be reserved for diners and other dimly-lit establishments."

"You know, I'm really tired of people pushing me away with promises of later. Why do I always get the short end of the stick?"

He moved to touch her but she leaned away from his hand. She got up to sit at a chair by the bed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I just want someone to be honest with me. Why can't you do that? Why can't you tell me what happened?"

He leaned over the bed to cup her chin in his hand. The EMTs must've discarded his gloves after the accident - he wasn't wearing them and the cool brush of his fingertips on her skin made her shiver.

"I will. Name the place and I will. Just not here."

She bit her lip in thought for a long moment. And then an idea came to her.

"Have you...have you ever had a hamburger?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Well, uh...I haven't." He blinked slowly at her in confusion until she added, "Newly-recovering vegetarian. But I, uh..."

He nodded like he was waiting patiently for her to go on. It surprised her - she'd always heard that he wasn't a very patient man.

"But I hear that Granny's makes a great one. So maybe...maybe we could try it sometime?" She looked up at him from between her lashes.

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I would like that."

She nodded back and got up to go, scooping up the contents of her purse as she went. She knew that he wanted to stop her, to ask her to wait, to stay. But as she walked out of his room and back down the long, winding hallways of the hospital, she mentally thanked him for respecting her space and the crushing desire to just be alone.

* * *

Belle didn't talk to him for the next four days. She felt mixed up. Shaky. She'd told him she'd loved him. But had she really meant it? Had she really meant any of it? Her mind spun with questions she didn't want to answer. She reached for her drink to drown out the noise of her thoughts, but a hand moved to cover the lip of the glass.

"Hey," She said, annoyed. "I'm trying to get drunk, here."

"You've been trying for days, Belle." The owner of the hand said gently from somewhere above her. It took a moment to remember who it was - she thought she looked familiar.  _Red. It's Red._ Belle would recognize the woman's soft green eyes almost anywhere.

"Don't you think it's time to talk to him?" Red asked, mouth turning down at the corners in a frown. She shook herself a little - wasn't her name Ruby, here? She couldn't remember. She thought it was Ruby, though.

"I just want to forget him," She said miserably, bringing the glass up to her lips again. Her friend shot her a look that bordered on murderous, and Belle sighed in defeat as it was pulled away from her again.

"Drinking yourself into a coma isn't going to help, trust me." Ruby slid the glass down the counter and whispered something to Granny. The older woman looked to her granddaughter, and then to Belle, understanding in an instant.

"Alright, alright, Ruby. I'll see what I can do." She picked the glass up with all the other half-empties from the rest of the early-morning drunks and headed for the kitchen, patting Belle on the shoulder before she disappeared behind the double doors.

"What will, then?" Belle rested her head on the counter. She was starting to get dizzy; she felt like she was on a still boat in a rolling tide.

Ruby pursed her lips. "I think you should see him."

"But I don't  _want_  to see him!" She yelled. She thought that people were starting at stare; she could see the nun-fairy and the janitor-dwarf looking at her from out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't think of a real reason to care anymore.

Ruby hugged her and helped her stand up. "Go home, okay? Sleep on it. I'll see if Granny and I can arrange something for tomorrow."

Belle nodded and walked outside into the rain; she'd forgotten what  _arranged_  meant, but she sure as hell didn't like the sound of  _tomorrow._

* * *

She thought she saw a wolf standing in the road on the way home.  _Graham?_ she thought for a moment. But then she realized that the coloring was all wrong, and that the eyes didn't match up. And then, for the second time that week, she realized that Graham was dead.

She scowled at nothing in particular; maybe she shouldn't have driven herself. The weather was miserable and she was so, so tired. David had offered her a lift in his truck, but she'd declined. She didn't want to talk to anyone else, today. The sound of the rain on the roof of her car was enough to drive her mad; she knew she wouldn't have been able to stand the low rumble of David's voice as he rambled on about the weather and his wife and God knew what else.

Belle could feel herself starting to cry and angrily wiped the tears away for the third time in the last two hours.

 _Sleep on it,_ Ruby had said. It looked like Belle had a lot of things to sleep on.

When she finally pulled into the driveway and made her way inside, her father was frantic with worry and questions. She looked into his face to tell him that she was okay, that she just wanted to sleep, but started crying again when he asked if it was that Gold man he'd heard about.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," She whispered against his shoulders as he brought her in for a hug.

"You don't have to apologize, darling. It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

Belle tried to ask him if he wanted her to make dinner tonight but he told her to go on up to bed and that he'd wake her later. She did as she was told without any further protest; her head was pounding and her chest ached. She trudged up the stairs and into her room, all the while thinking,  _why does it hurt so much? it shouldn't hurt this much._

She'd only known him for a month; she knew because she'd marked the day they'd met on her calendar. She scowled up at it now and buried her head beneath her covers.

As she drifted off to sleep under a fortress of down pillows and quilted blankets, she realized that she still didn't know his name. And as she fell deeper and deeper into sleep, past the realm of dreams and the shadowy fog of nightmares, she started to remember the name she used to call him.

Rumpelstiltskin.

She could remember the way the scales on his face had melted away into the skin of a man, the way his mouth had curved up into a smile as his lips became soft and smooth again, the way his eyes had lost that feverish glint to them and softened to warm pools of gold.

Gold.

She woke up saying the names together, but they didn't fit. They sounded strange in her mouth, like they didn't belong in the same sentence.  _so what can it be?_  She reached for her cell phone in the dark, dialing the one number she wished she'd never have to call.

"I need your help." She was relieved her voice didn't sound as small as she felt. "I need to know what Gold's name is."

"And why would I tell you that?"

Chills swept through her at the sound of the other woman's voice. She sounded so cold and distant, it was absolutely terrifying.

"Because you're the mayor. You know these things."

The other end of the phone was quiet.

"You know everything, don't you?" Belle said as she sat up in bed. Regina still wasn't talking, but it only confirmed her theory. The woman knew more than she'd ever let on, and so did Gold.

"Tell me what's going on." She added, "please" in a shaky voice.

The mayor sighed like she was getting tired of the conversation. "I haven't the faintest idea of what's going on, my dear. But you might want to ask the same thing to his lover."

"Lover?" Belle nearly dropped the phone in her lap, her hand was trembling so furiously.

"You haven't met Cora?" Her laughed jarred Belle all the way down to her bones.

"No...no, I haven't." She tried her best to hold back tears. "How long have they been seeing each other?"

"For longer than you've been alive, Miss French. Even when they were worlds apart, they were still-"

Belle jabbed the  _end_  button on her phone and screamed into the nearest pillow.

Her father came rushing up the stairs when he heard the commotion, half-afraid she was going to burst into tears again.

"Belle? Honey, what's wrong?" His eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I keep seeing things that aren't there, I'm falling in love with a man who's only lied to me, and I think I'm starting to lose my mind."

Maurice blinked. "Is that all?"

She nodded and brought her knees to her chest. "Yeah, Dad. That's all."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one of my favorite chapters so far.

* * *

 

The bed winced as Maurice settled himself down next to Belle. She wasn't sure what he was supposed to do after she'd made such a sudden confession, and there was a long moment where it looked like he didn't, either.

She unfolded her knees from her chest and made a move to duck her head under his chin like she'd done so many times throughout her childhood, and he welcomed her into his arms like she'd never left them.

"I just don't understand, you know?" Belle said into her father's shirt. "I never thought it would be this bad."

"Never thought what would be this bad, my girl?" Maurice asked, leaning away from her a little to look into her eyes.

"Storybrooke." She blew air from her lips like she wasn't sure how to continue. Her father waited for her to gather her thoughts with as much patience as he'd shown her in the last five years.

"It's not that I don't like it here. I love it, I do...it's just-" She looked like she was struggling to find the words.

"Complicated?" Maurice ventured.

Belle nodded. "Complicated. Yeah, that's a start."

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me-" Her father made a move to get up from the bed. She took his hand in her own to pull him back towards her.

"No. No, I do. I just-" She bit her lip, hating herself for what she was about to say. "I can't tell you now. Name the time and I will. Just not now."

She almost wanted to laugh, now - she sounded so much like  _him_ she felt like she was going to be physically ill. And Maurice, for all his good grace, squeezed her hand in his and ruffled her hair like it didn't bother him that she was keeping things from him. She knew it did, but she also knew that he was putting her feelings above his own.

"Take all the time you need. We can talk later." He gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead, then moved to wrap a quilt over her shoulders before he walked downstairs again. She turned to tell him thank you, that she loved him, but by the time the words left her mouth, he'd already closed the door behind him.

Belle sighed and curled up even further on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as she felt her vision swimming with tears she refused to shed. She fell into a dreamless sleep and awoke hours later to a darkening sky and a ringing cell phone. It took her a minute to find it in the darkness - she hadn't thought she'd sleep the whole day, but it'd done wonders for her hangover. But when she saw the number that flashed across her phone's tiny screen, she realized that all the sleep in the world couldn't do anything for her heart. _  
_

She didn't want to answer it. She wouldn't answer it. She even got back into bed to prove it to herself. But she ended up reaching for the phone anyway, pressing the "talk" button on the very last ring.

"What do you want?" She demanded, voice low and raw from too much sleep.

"You, honestly," He said in the softest tone she'd ever heard him use. "I want to talk to you."

"Well, darn. You'll have to call back later. See, I was just about to have a mental breakdown and you're kind of interrupting it." She moved her thumb over the "end" button.

"No, Belle, wait." She could hear a hushed "please" that was so broken, she swore he was crying.

"I'm listening, Gold," Belle said as she buried herself beneath her comforter.

He laughed, a strangled sound from deep in his throat. She wanted to go through the phone to see if he really was crying; it sure as hell sounded like it. "It's Andrew, Belle. It's Andrew. I should've told you sooner. I should've told you everything sooner and I'm sorry."

"I already know everything I need to," Belle whispered into the phone. "Regina told me the things you must've skipped over."

"Regina? Belle, sweetheart, you can't seriously believe what she told you. Do you remember what she did to you? Do you remember what she did to  _us?_ " His voice was doing that thing again, that thing where it managed to break her heart and leave her breathless all at once.

"I do, and I don't care."

"You can't seriously mean that." Gold said in a voice so soft, Belle wasn't quite sure she heard him.

"What if I do? What if I don't give a damn about you at all?" She was whispering without a reason; she could feel herself falling into the familiar rhythm of all the late-night conversations they'd had before.

A shiver ran down her spine when he murmured, "Then I'm afraid I'd have to tell you that you're a terrible liar, darling," in a way that made her feel like he was right at her ear.

"But I don't," Belle insisted.

"Don't what?" He asked gently.

"Don't care about you." She enunciated every syllable in the hopes that he'd get the hint and finally hang up. Half of her just wanted to drown her feelings in a pint of pistachio ice cream and a mystery novel. But the other half...the other half never really wanted to hang up.

"Would you really still be on the phone with me if that were true?" He was trying and failing to keep the smile out of his voice; he'd won the verbal chess-match and she hated him for it.

"If I go now does it still count?"

"No." He said, laughing. "Because I put the idea in your head."

"Well, I was going to hang up a long time ago, you know." She was whispering again, damn his accent to hell she couldn't help herself. "I just...got distracted for a minute."

"It's been almost fifteen, love." Gold said in a way that made her think she was looking at his watch and grinning like the devil.

"I'm going, now, okay?" Her finger hovered over the "end" button.

"Okay."

"Bye, then."

"No, Belle, wait!" His voice was low and rough like he was on the verge of tears again when he said, "Wait. If I don't say this now, I never will, and you need to hear it."

She waited for him to go on, twirling a stray curl around her fingers under the darkness of her blankets. When he spoke again, the sound of his voice filled the small space with enough emotion to take her breath away.

"I know you're...confused about who you are." He paused like he was waiting for her to hang up. And when she didn't, he said, "So, I'm going to tell you. You're a hero who helped your people. You're a beautiful woman, who loved an ugly man. Really, really loved me, even when I didn't deserve it. You find goodness in others, and when it's not there, you create it."

Her hands shook and she nearly dropped the phone in her lap at his words.  _this is..._

"Mr. Gold, I-" She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

"Now, now, darling. Let me finish." Belle thought that if he were in the room with her, he would've stroked her cheek as he said it. And even though everything in her was shaking, even though everything in her told her that she shouldn't let him in again, she couldn't help it. She'd never really shut him out.

"You make me want to go back," His voice grew as soft as the falling snow outside when he whispered, "Back, to the best version of me. And that's never happened before. So, when you look in the mirror and you don't know who you are, that's who you are."

"I don't know what to say, that's so...so..." She couldn't find the words.

"That's okay. You've got the rest of the night to think about it. I don't expect to find you at Granny's in the afternoon, but if you'd care to join me for lunch, we could, or at least, I hope we could, work some things out."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I've never been so sure of anything in my entire life, Belle." His voice was dangerously soft, now, and she told him she had to go (so he wouldn't have to hear her break down, but she didn't - couldn't - say that). Why was he acting this way when he was with Cora? Why was he acting this way when all he'd done was lie to her? She couldn't work it out in her head; every answer she came up with only left her mind reeling with more questions than she'd started with.

Her fingers shook as she dialed another number she'd never thought she'd have to use. They picked up on the fourth ring, voice heavy with sleep.

"What is it, love?"

"Killian?" The voice on the other end growled in a way that Belle took for a yes. She knew he hated being called this late, but she had no one else to turn to. She had no one else she could trust.

"Killian, I need your help."

"At one o'clock in the morning? What'd you do now, love?" His voice was muffled, like he was balancing the phone on his shoulder as he changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a t-shirt.

"It's not me. It's Gold. I think he's-" She bit her lip and forced the words out of her mouth. "I think he's seeing someone else."

There was a beat of silence on the other end before she heard Killian say he'd kill him.

"Hook, please, don't-" He sounded like he was wrestling into a pair of boots, now. She was half-afraid they were the ones he'd gotten when he joined the army, that he was going to find Gold's house and beat him senseless with the steel around the toes, but she relaxed a little when he told her they were just for the snow.

"Do you want me to come now? Milah's asleep, she won't hear me." The way he asked broke something deep inside of her; he was willing to leave his side of the bed next to his wife for a long, lonely drive to her house in the woods.

"No, no. Let's just...let's meet tomorrow, okay?"

"Tomorrow," he echoed, turning the word around in his mouth. "Yeah, okay. Tomorrow sounds better. Should I send for the calvary? Rally Snow White and her charming prince behind me?"

"No, no. This has to stay between the two of us. Please?"

"You are, by far, the strangest girl who's ever called me twice in one month. First you wanted me to bring back my library books and now you want me to help you with your man. What do you think we are, best friends?"

"You're a mile behind Ruby in that position."

"Well, we could always be first mates-" The way he laughed told her he'd had too much to drink before he'd gone to bed.

"Go back to sleep, Hook."

"Okay, Beauty. I'll help you out with your beast if you promise to let me take you out on Halloween." The laugh was gone, replaced by the same sleepy voice Hook had greeted her with.

"Okay, okay. Fine. Now go back to sleep, and I'll see you at Granny's in the morning."

"Mm. In the morning, then." She could hear the bed squeak as he settled back into it. She thought she could even hear his wife snoring beside him, but she couldn't be too sure.

"Goodnight, Killian." She whispered.

"Goodnight, Belle." He hung up the phone with a  _click_ and the line went dead. She couldn't find it in her to go back to sleep; she had too many things to do and not even time to do them. She started off by writing a note to her father, explaining everything. While she knew it wasn't the heart-to-heart he'd probably been looking for, it would have to do for now. She didn't want to leave him out of a loop she herself was just beginning to understand. There were things that were kept from the people of Storybrooke. And she had a feeling these things were going to put them all in harm's way, soon enough.

* * *

By the time she walked into the diner the next morning, she'd almost completely forgotten about her promise to meet Hook there. So when she saw a man in a dark suit and silk tie sitting in a chair by the breakfast nook, she felt her heart start drumming against her ribcage as fast as a hummingbird's beating wings.

"Gold?" She asked, holding her breath.

"I'm afraid not, love." The man turned around so she could see him fully and grinned when her expression fell.

"Shows how happy you are to see me." Hook said after he took one last sip of his coffee. He called Ruby over to order another one, and a couple of muffins, winking at Belle as he did so. She tried to tell him that she was okay, that she didn't want anything, but when he took her hands to pull her over to the chair next to him, he winced.

"You're drinking that coffee, love. Your hands are so cold, I think they're going to give me frostbite if I hold on any longer." He leaned closer like he was about to tell her a secret, whispering, "But I wouldn't mind losing another hand for a lovely woman" in her ear.

Belle rolled her eyes - she'd gotten used to his antics over the years. Now that she thought about it, she was probably her closest friend, besides Ruby. They'd met when she'd been training to be an EMT. He'd given her a few pointers here and there, and had offered a shoulder to cry on when some of the things she'd seen were too much to handle alone. He'd been a surgeon for an even shorter time than she'd been a paramedic, but she'd gotten so comfortable with him that she'd started to find his incessant flirting almost funny. But she brushed off his next attempt at flattery with a wave of her hand.

"Hook, please. Tell me what you know about Gold." She gave him her best pouting face.

He looked like he was trying hard not to give in, but ended up looking away and biting his lip in surrender. "He's not a soft man, Belle. He had a pretty hard time growing up after his father died."

"Was that when he met Cora?" Belle asked, tone as dark as her coffee.

"Cora? Is that what this is about?" Hook shook his head, laughing a little. "Oh, Belle. If you weren't hopelessly in love with that old crocodile, I think I would have to take you for myself."

"What do you know about her?" She leaned forward in her seat.

"Well, for starters - she's right over there." Killian hooked a thumb towards the front door, where a woman with dark hair and eyes was strolling into the diner. The way she was looking at Belle was making her sick - it looked like the woman wanted to tear her heart out with her bare hands.

When Cora started walking their way, Belle straightened up in her chair. She would not let this woman make her feel small. Not now, not ever. They traded smiles as Hook whispered "cat fight" and busied himself by checking out the underside of Ruby's skirt as she cleared an empty table.

"Are you the woman who's in love with Gold?" Cora asked in a sickly-sweet tone of voice that made Belle shiver.

"That depends. Are you the witch who's after his heart?" Belle countered with a sickly-sweet tone of her own.

The other woman leaned down until she was inches away from Belle's face.

"You could say that once I'm done with him, he'll have no heart left. And there's nothing in this next world or the next that can stop me, dear. So I wouldn't waste your time trying." Cora said with a wicked smile before sauntering out the door.

Belle swore she saw the woman disappear in a haze of purple smoke outside the diner. Hook shuddered at the sight and muttered that he should've torn her heart out when he'd had the chance.

* * *


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, once upon a time I thought this fic would only be about ten chapters. I think I lied to myself. Anyway, happy reading!

* * *

 

Belle wanted to ask Hook just when exactly did he have the chance to kill Cora (and what made him change his mind about doing it), but the look on his face froze the question in her throat.

"Hook? What is it?"  _Did Cora come back?_

She could feel a surge of adrenaline rush through her at the thought of the woman's reappearance. Killian's hook glinted in the light when he waved it in front of her face to shush her.

"It's your boyfriend, love," He said, making a noise between a grunt and a laugh.

Belle followed Hook's gaze to the doorway, wincing when she saw someone in a dark suit and tie waltzing into the cafe like they opened the place. That was her boyfriend, alright.  _Or should I start calling him an ex, now?_

Whatever he was to her, her breath caught still in her throat a little as she watched him walk towards them - he hadn't noticed them yet, but she'd noticed him. He was wearing the very same suit she'd seen him in on the day they'd met, and the shirt that went underneath of it was just as brilliant of a pink as she'd remembered.

"I'm trying so hard to hate him," She said as she turned back to her coffee. Hook offered her a smile before he bit into his muffin. She thought it might've been blueberry - he just didn't seem like the type to go for anything else.

"You have every right to hate him," He said after a long moment. His gaze was somewhere between Gold and the doorway, like he wasn't sure if he should be watching him or waiting for Cora. There was a second where she wasn't all that sure, either.

If she'd been drinking anything, she would've spit it out all over Hook's face, she was so surprised. "I do? But I thought...I thought you were here to tell me that I  _shouldn't_  hate him." Belle took a bite of her own muffin, puzzled that he'd remembered she liked the pumpkin ones. "It's all anyone else's been telling me."

He grinned at her, drawing his hook down the line of her throat as he said, "But Belle, darling, you must've figured out that I'm not like anyone else by now" in the lowest whisper he had. She thought she saw a flash of something - a very quick, very warm something - in his eyes when he turned back around to look at her. But it was gone just as soon as it appeared and she wanted to kick herself for even thinking it'd been there at all.

"I know, Hook." She said, sighing into her coffee cup. "Maybe that's the problem, you know? Maybe I've been so busy letting everyone else tell me what to do for so long, letting everyone call all the shots, that I've let this whole thing spiral out of control."

"Belle." Killian's voice was low in a different way when he said her name, this time. It was almost...gentle. "Belle, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. C'mere here, now, lean in to me."

He waved his hook in the best "come hither" gesture she'd seen in a while. She would've laughed about it if she wasn't so on edge from the morning's events.

She leaned towards him a little, unsure of whether or not she should be afraid of what he was going to tell her. He hadn't talked to her like this since she was on her first day as an EMT. Killian had had blood all down the front of his emergency responder jacket, and his hair had been matted with sweat. She'd been on edge for the last twenty minutes, ever since her team had responded to the 911 call about the car crash on the edge of town. She hadn't known if she'd been shaking because of how many bones she'd seen jutting out of the driver's skin, or because of the fact that it'd happened when he was trying to leave. No one ever left.

Hook had sheltered her then. And if Belle thought about it hard enough, she knew that it was what he was doing for her now, too. So whatever she might or might not've seen in his eyes a couple of minutes ago didn't matter. He was here for her. And that was what mattered.

"What's the big secret?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Shhh, shhh. Quiet down love, we don't want the old crocodile to hear you." Killian said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer to her. "You swear you won't tell a soul about this?"

"I swear." A funny feeling twisted her stomach as she said it. What if...what if she really hadn't imagined the look in his eyes?

Killian grinned at her, leaning in even closer than before. There was a dizzying moment where he was all she could see.

"You can hate him for the rest of your life, if you're really so inclined." His voice tickled the shell of her ear as he spoke and she shivered - both in surprise that he was so close and at the thought of hating Gold. "You can give up on love and life and all the books in your father's library. But don't give on him, okay?"

She could feel her eyes welling up with tears as Killian pulled away from her to lean back against the edge of the counter. "Even if I want to give up on him? He's been cheating on me this whole time, Hook. This  _whole time._ "

He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Have I ever told you how adorable you are, my little Belle? Because you really are. I don't know what goes on in that pretty little head of yours, but I want you to stop thinking whatever you're thinking right now."

Belle sniffled the last of her tears away. She couldn't cry now - not when Gold was so close by, not when the witch who was after his heart could come storming through the doorway again. "Why should I? It's true. Regina told me-"

"Regina?" He shook his head, scowling. "Why does everyone still listen to that woman? She's tell you anything she wants, so long as it makes you miserable. She's the most spiteful woman I've ever met, and trust me, I've met a lot of women before Milah."

"Earth to Hook." Belle waved a hand in front of his face. He was starting to get starry-eyed, but she couldn't tell if it was over the thought of Milah or the women he'd been with before her. "Why is trusting Regina about this such a bad idea? I know she's not the most honorable woman in the world, but she's the first person who's been honest with me."

"Honest?" Killian scoffed, waving the word away with one fell swoop of his hook. "She's anything but honest, love. And if you should be going to anyone about this, I really think it should be the old man himself."

"I can't."

"Ah, yes you can." Hook gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Go on. Go talk to him or I'll bring him over here for you, and you wouldn't want me to do that."

That secret something came back in his eyes again when he said it. She tried not to think about it, focusing her every thought on Gold. Did she really want to talk to him? Yes. But did he deserve it?

Belle cast a glance towards Gold's figure, considering the question. He was leaning against the other end of the counter, chatting up Ruby about something she couldn't really hear. A shiver went through her as she studied the line of his suit and the way the smile he wore with it hadn't lost any of his warmth since the last time she'd seen him. But when he turned away from Ruby, the smile dissipated so fast it looked like it hadn't really been there in the first place. He looked exactly like she had the last few days; broken. Yet he also looked like a man who deserved a chance - a chance to explain himself, at the very least.

Gold turned towards Belle at the same time she started to turn away. Killian's gaze moved back and forth between them before he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. "This seat's not taken, if you want to-"

Gold offered him a smile, although it wasn't as warm as it had been a minute ago. "Much obliged, dear Captain."

Belle watched him Killian with the gaze of a very small and frightened animal. He winked at her as he passed by the cafe's looming glass window before he made his way around the corner and out of sight. She'd thought this had been a good idea when her and Gold had been talking last night - she'd thought she owed him this. But now she couldn't be sure. She didn't feel like she owed him anything.

Gold settled into the now-empty seat beside her, murmuring, "That afraid to be alone with me, hm?" as he did.

She thought his voice was just about as broken as he looked.

"It's not that, Gold. I just...I don't know what to say."

His smile was sad, and it didn't touch his eyes. "You don't have to say anything, Belle. I honestly don't expect you to after everything I've done, after all the things I haven't told you."

"Like about Cora, you mean?"

She didn't miss the shiver that ran through him when she said the woman's name. "Yes, like about Cora. I know I should've told you sooner, and I know I shouldn't have let it go on this long, but I just-"

"You just what? You thought it wouldn't matter or something?" He flinched at the sting in her voice. She could see someone - Ruby, August, a newbie, maybe - fluttering in the background of the diner, waiting with two plates of food that must've been theirs. But she didn't care. She'd say whatever she wanted to, no matter who was in hearing distance.

"You're a lying, cheating bastard. And I shouldn't have ever trusted you." She could feel her eyes welling up with rebel tears as she said it. She didn't mean it as wholly as she should've, and she almost wished she hadn't said it with such venom, but there was no taking the words back, now.

"No, Belle, please. Just let me explain." He raised an arm out in the space between them, looking like he wanted to do nothing more to reach out and touch her, hold her, but the ice in her eyes froze his movements. The distance between them could've held ocean, could've held galaxies.

"I'm waiting, Gold," Belle said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Someone brought their plates out without saying a word, slinking back into the kitchen before she could really tell who they were.

"It's Andrew, Belle." His voice got stuck in his throat somewhere between "Andrew" and "Belle". "It's always been Andrew."

Belle stiffened at the way he said her name. It was just as gentle as the way he'd spoken to her the night before, maybe even more so. How could she hate him when he was being so honest with her, now? How could she hate him when he was being so gentle with her, now?

"I know I've got a lot of explaining to do, and not nearly enough time to do it." Gold moved his eggs around on his plate without even a glance. They were over easy, something she hadn't expected from him. Hers were scrambled, and she distantly wondered how he'd known to order them that way. "I won't try to win you over with petty promises or expensive breakfasts. Because you deserve so much more than that, Belle. You deserve the truth. The whole, unadulterated truth."

She gritted her teeth at the word "whole".  _That_  was how she could hate him. She could hate him because he hadn't told her the whole truth, just the little bits and pieces he'd found acceptable. And that wasn't really the truth at all.

"I think I do. And I think you should start telling me now before I change my mind about all this."

He waited until he was done chewing a bite of his eggs before he said, "Well then I should start by telling you that I've never cheated on you."

Belle scrunched up her face, already mildly disgusted by the conversation. "And you think it's so easy to win my trust back? You...you think I'll just come crawling back into your arms like this has all just been some horrible mistake?"

"It  _has_  been a mistake. But not on your part," Gold said as he swirled a forkful of hash browns over a pool of ketchup on his plate. "It's entirely a mistake of my own. I knew Cora was in town long before you did. She came to me when I was in the hospital that night."

She cut off a piece of French toast with a violent kind of fervor. Maybe it'd been a good thing she'd never went any further in the medical field - she wasn't all that in control of herself when she was angry.

"Yeah? And what'd she say, then?"

He shook his head, laughing without even a hint of humor. "She told me that I will have a child," He paused for a moment, and in that moment she could almost see him as he'd been in the old world. "And when that child comes, the only way I will be able to protect you is by giving it up to her."

When he closed his eyes tight, she didn't see the green scales of a lizard-like beast, but the shaking eyelids of a man who was trying to hold fast to his composure.

"A child?" Belle could hear her pulse thundering in her ears at the thought - because if Cora came to him looking for a child, it meant the child wouldn't be one of her own. "You...you mean with me, don't you?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I do." Andrew opened his eyes before continuing, "Whether or not that child is ever conceived, however, is not the true problem. See, the true problem here is this: she will stop at nothing to rip both of our hearts out and crush them where we stand in front of her."

"I-I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Belle shook her head to try to clear it, to try to work out the pieces of the puzzle that'd been forming. "If you don't love her, and she doesn't love you, what difference does it make if we were to ever even have this child?"

He sighed into his plate. it was just nearly just as full as hers was, and if they were talking about anything different, she might've laughed at his dramatics. But this wasn't something she could laugh at.

"It matters because we loved each other once. And she thinks that if she were to steal a child away from you and I-"

Belle's breath caught in her throat. "Then it would complete the family the two of you never had."

He nodded, drawing in a deep breath before continuing. "I know that there is a small part of you who remembers the old world. And I know that there is a bigger, more logical part of you that believes that the stuff of fairy tales are nothing's more than a child's bedtime story. But I need you to listen to that part of you who remembers, now. I need you to listen to the part of you who believed in me."

"When?" She squeezed her eyes shut to try to keep the threat of tears at bay.

"Pardon?"

"When did you love her?" She asked, her voice tight.

"Long, long ago. Before you were even a thought in anyone's mind, my dear. And every year that's passed since we lived in the old world has felt like a century. Eons."

"So you don't love her, now? You really want me to believe that you don't feel a thing for her?"

"Well." She could hear a dark note of sarcasm to his voice when he said, "I wouldn't say that, necessarily. There are many things one can feel for someone, and I am afraid I must admit that I do feel something for her."

"And what would that be?" Belle asked as she brought herself to eat another forkful of eggs.

"Loathing." Gold said in a quiet voice. She could hear the emotion behind it, the passion, but the full extent of the feeling was in his eyes. They gleamed molten and dangerous in the light of the morning sun when he turned to look at her.

"Tell me you remember this." His voice broke in a way that hit a chord in her, the smallest chord that started to form the notes of a song. "Tell me you remember us."

When his hands reached for hers, she didn't pull away from him. The song that was moving through her, inside her, was only just beginning, but she could already feel it weaving the broken bits of her memories together. When she blinked the sun out of her eyes, she could see him as he'd been before, a beast who couldn't give up his power, his only weakness. And when she blinked again, he sat before her as he was now, the man who couldn't give up his love, his only strength. Her whole body sang with the force of the realization: she  _knew_  him.

"I do. I remember."

 


End file.
